An American Crime Saga: Part Three
by BondFanatic
Summary: Jimmy is now on the run from a mafia don, a gang leader, and a bloodthirsty detective. Meanwhile, he must stay alive and find a way out of his mess. Rated T for violence and brief language. REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Hello Everybody! Here is the first chapter of the third installment of my American Crime Saga Series. If you are reading this and haven't read parts 1 & 2, then please read them first! Anyhooo… enjoy and Review!**

**Chapter One:**

"Son of a…!" Detective West cursed when he realized two things. One, he'd just shot and killed an innocent bystander, and two, he'd just done what he said he wouldn't do, let his man escape.

"How could I be so friggin stupid!" West yelled at himself as he ran to the window Jimmy had so 'casually' exited through.

"Come back here you son of a bitch!" Troy screamed out and fired his pistol out the window out of anger. Our detective had another problem on his hands. He had to explain this to his boss. His bloodthirsty, professional, do-or-die boss. That's the thing with bosses in the detective world. They're all hard-asses.

And West didn't even need to call his boss himself.

Detective West's pocketed cell phone began buzzing against his leg. West reached in and pushed the answer button maybe a bit too hard. He was still fuming over the last few minutes.

"He.. Hello?" West hesitated.

"You know who it is numbnuts. Just tell me what I wanna hear." The voice on the other line said. It was a raspy voice, that of a frequent smoker.

"Uh, well you see…" West began.

"You didn't get him, did 'cha?" The voice asked.

"Nope. And I kinda shot up an innocent chick…" West added.

"Innocent chick? Listen to me, nobody on this Earth is innocent. Now, unnecessary casualty's, I can cover those up. But, I can't cover up failure. Now, I can fire you right here, on the spot, but you've done me good in the past, so I'm gonna give you a chance. Chase him and get him, no matter what. Just get 'im."

"I got it." West confirmed as he walked around the motel room. It was then that he noticed a bag. Tempted to look inside, West discovered something important. Jimmy's money. The one thing all of the parties where out to get.

"Hey boss," West said, "I got some good news."

Jimmy aimlessly walked up down the seemingly endless street near the motel with a thumb raised. He had, in five minutes, lost two friends, and lost the money that he stole from Castillo's gang and owed Lazanno's mafia. And worst of all, the money was now in the hands of the police and a bloodthirsty detective who would still be on his track.

Looking at the situation, Jimmy had no money with him, no car, no friends nearby, and had the police, mafia, and red cat's (Castillo's gang) chasing after him. And for all of this he couldn't help but wonder whose fault it all was. Was it Sheen's fault for getting him involved in the first place? What about Cindy, who gave him the go ahead? And himself, who made the decision to go along?

He probably would have gotten to the bottom of that question had a car no pulled over.

"Where to, buddy?" The man in the car, an old ford of some sort, asked. He was mid height, mid aged, and about mid weight. He sounded friendly, almost like a Ned Flanders kinda feel.

"I'm going to Meadowview, the Retroville suburb." Jimmy answered as he stepped into the passenger seat.

"You got it. So, why are you out in the street in mid day with no car or nothing?" The man said.

"I got dumped." Jimmy looked out the window incase Detective West was on his trail.

"Ouch, tough love, huh. So, what 'cha doing at Meadowview?"

"Visiting my dad for some cash." Jimmy replied, still on the lookout.

Now, that part about being dumped was a lie, but he was telling the truth about Meadowview. His father lived in a nice suburban house down by the lake. Jimmy was close to Meadowview, so his father was his best option. However, there was one problem…

Jimmy hadn't spoken to his father in years. They had had a bit of an argument after his mother had passed. His mother was a link between the two, and when that link split, Jimmy just grew away from his father. Hugh had been going through rough times at work and was getting angry of Jimmy's genious ways. Hell, I'd be angry too if my kid was smarter than me!

Jimmy just had to hold on to the hope that his father would lend a helping hand.

"Ring! Ring!" the phone rang seemingly endless times before Sheen picked up back at his home.

"Hello?" Sheen answered.

"Hello, is this a Sheen Estevez?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Yeah, that's me. How may I help you?"

"Well, unfortunately we have some bad news."

"Bad news, what bad news?"

"Do you know a Libby Folfax?"

"Yes, why?"

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but she was found dead just a few minutes ago. Her parents said I should inform you and a Mr. and Mrs. Neutron. Do you know where I could reach them?" That was not the kind of news Sheen wanted to hear.

"Uh.. uh.. well.. I'm sorry, I'm kinda at a loss for words. Uh, h..how did she die?" Sheen was just frozen still, holding in tears. How could he be so stupid! He was putting Libby's life in danger by allowing her to follow Jimmy. She was bound to run into the people chasing Jimmy.

"She was found with a bullet to the head. A clean kill. The detective here says that the man he was after killed her out of cold blood. I'm terribly sorry."

"May I speak to the detective you speak of?" Sheen asked.

"Yes, of course." the man replied and called for the detective.

"Yeah?" the Detective said arrogantly.

"Are you absolutely sure that the man you where after killed Libby, Detective…?" Sheen began.

"West. Detective Troy West. And yes, we are fairly certain that my man fired the shot. Other guests here at the motel say they saw a man matching his description walk into a motel room and wait until Libby entered. They heard a gunshot and witnessed that same man jump out of the window, escaping." Detective West explained.

"What is the name of this man you're after?" Sheen asked.

"Neutron. James Isaac Neutron. He pulled a heist for a gang and got away with millions. We were tipped off by somebody inside the gang." West added.

That there was a big piece of the puzzle. Somebody tipped off the cops.

"You don't say? Well, good luck on your search, detective." Sheen finished.

"Thank you, and sorry about your friend Libby." West said.

"No problem, everybody dies sometime. I'll get over it." Sheen said.

"That's a good outlook on life. I seem to share that same outlook. Anyways, take care and obey the law." West hung up.

Sheen wasn't stupid. He knew that most everything he'd just heard was complete and utter bullshit. From the accusation that Jimmy killed Libby right on down to the phony apology about Libby's death. There was something suspicious about the detective he'd just spoken with.

Now he just had to break the news to Cindy.

**Well…? How was it? Please give your opinion in your reviews which you must write!!! Anyway, chapter two will come soon. Bye!**

**P.S: I will also be working on a new Jimmy Neutron war fanfic. You can read more on my profile page.**


	2. Chapter 2

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Welcome back! Here is chapter 2. Enjoy and REVIEW!!!! please.**

**Chapter Three:**

"Here we are!" the nice man in the car announced to his passenger when they arrived just outside of Jimmy's father's house.

"Thanks for the lift, Mr.…" Jimmy said.

"Ed Thompson's the name. And no need to thank me. I'm here to help."

"Here, uh…, I really don't have any money with me. Is there any way I could mail some cash to you?" Jimmy reached into his pockets, finding nothing.

"No, no, no… don't bother with paying me! I just want to help. Good luck with whatever it is you're doing, buddy!" Ed insisted. Jimmy couldn't believe how lucky he was to find a man this nice to drive him here.

"Oh, well thanks." Jimmy smiled and went on his way.

"Ding-Dong!" the doorbell rang within the run down, single-floored home of Hugh Neutron.

"Ding-Dong! Ding-Dong!" Jimmy was getting impatient. What if he wasn't there? Where would he go? Luckily he heard the very voice he'd come to hear.

"Okay! Okay! I'm coming! Jeez!" Hugh didn't sound all too good. He'd been something of a mess for a while now. He had drinking habits.

The door opened like a beam of light signaling for Jimmy to forget all of his troubles, if only for a second.

"Dad! It's me, Jimmy!" Jimmy smiled at the sight of his shocked father.

"J..Jimmy? What are you doing here?" Hugh managed to get some words out. He was speechless. I mean, his only child, whom he'd lost connection with and hadn't talked to in years, just shows up at his door out of the blue!

"Look, I'll explain everything. May I come inside?" Jimmy explained.

"Y..Yeah, sure Jimbo. I'll make some coffee or something." Hugh was taking it rather well so far.

It didn't last too long, though. Jimmy did as he said. He explained about the robbery, Lazanno, Castillo, Shorty, Detective West, the money, and Libby's death. The look on Hugh's face said everything. He didn't know what to say.

"Alright, lemme get this straight. You participated in a robbery, got involved with Maxx Lazanno and Salvador Castillo III, and have to retrieve some money back from the police, or Lazanno and Castillo will track you down and kill you. And you need me to give you some cash so you can get by for a while? Did I get everything?" Hugh asked.

"That's pretty much it." Jimmy confirmed.

"Now, what makes you think that I'll give you money? What makes you think that I'll approve of all of this. Huh? What the hell makes you think I won't just dial 911 right when you leave and report you. What makes you think that?" Hugh began.

"Because you're my father." Jimmy answered.

"Because I'm your father!? I haven't seen you in years! I don't know what's been going on with you! Hell, you just popped up outta the god damn blue to explain all this to me! I may be your father by blood, but I don't seem to be your father by heart! I'm sorry, Jimmy, but you'll have to try harder than that!"

"I just thought…"

"You thought wrong, Jimmy! You thought wrong! I mean, you could've gone to Sheen, or Carl, or even you're god damn wife! Why'd you come to me?!"

"Because I wanted to patch things up! I want to know that my own father gives a damn about me! I wanted to know that when I die, my dad cared about me. That we ended where we started! Dad, I need you for this! I would rather walk into Lazanno's office right now then know that my father hated me at the end of my life! I mean sure, I could've gone to Sheen, Carl, or Cindy for the money, but I felt you had to know!" Jimmy cried. It was all true, too.

"Look, I ain't mad at ya, Jimbo. Hell, you're my son! I love ya! But I wanna patch things up, too. So I'll give you the money and I won't rat you out. I want to help. Just promise me that you'll visit for Christ sakes!" Hugh calmed down.

"Thanks, dad."

"You're welcome, Jimbo."

They walked together to the door and Hugh reached into his wallet.

"Here's a hundred. It ain't much, but it should get ya to a hotel for a while. Get some rest and some food. You don't look too good." Hugh handed his son the money.

"Thanks, and be careful. If that detective is on my trail, chances are he'll end up here. Just think of a story to tell him, and lay low. I'll try to visit soon." Jimmy warned his father.

"Okay. Bye, Jimmy." Hugh said.

"Bye, dad." Jimmy hugged his father and went on his way.

"Wh.. What did you say?" Cindy had a teary look in her eyes as Sheen spoke to her.

"We lost Libby. She was found shot in the head. The cops think Jimmy did it." Sheen repeated. He was devastated, but knew that he had to keep together. It was his duty to guide Cindy through this.

"Oh my god! Libby's dead! This is a joke, right? You're trying to mess with me, right? Right?" Cindy cried. Sheen just stood still, a single tear ran down his cheek. Cindy knew at that moment that her best friend of 20 years was gone.

"This is my fault! I sent her to follow Jimmy! I should've known that she'd be in danger too! And now she's gone, oh god!" Cindy was weeping. She collapsed to the ground on her knees, crying a river of tears. It hurt Sheen just to watch.

"It's okay. Jimmy will get this guy. I'm sure. There's no way he did this. I think the detective killed her and covered it up. And if that's true, then there is only one man to blame." Sheen determined.

"Who?" Cindy wiped up some tears from her face.

"The detective said that he was tipped off about Jimmy by someone within the gang. That is about the only thing that came out of his mouth that I believe. Nobody outside of the gang, you, Carl, Libby, and me knew of Jimmy's involvement. I mean, Lazanno knew, but now that I think of it, he must've been tipped off about Jimmy as well. He wouldn't of come after him unless they knew of his involvement!" Sheen blew open a big piece of the puzzle.

"Who would do that? Carl and Libby wouldn't have told the cops anything, and why would anyone in the gang want a man who helped them in custody?" Cindy wondered aloud.

"That's what I'm gonna find out. Someone ratted Jimmy out, and I owe it to you and him to find that rat." Sheen told Cindy. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

"So, now what?" Cindy asked, still teary-eyed.

"Call Carl, and give him the news. I'm gonna try to reach Jimmy." Sheen answered. Unfortunately, they didn't know one thing.

Detective Troy West was on his way to Carl's house as they spoke.

"Ding-Dong!" The doorbell rang at Carl's parent's house, where Carl lives too.

"Hello?" Carl's father answered the door.

"Hi, I'm Detective Troy West, Retroville P.D. May I speak to you're son, Carl." West held up his badge, signaling that he meant business.

"Carl? What did he do?" Mr. Wheezer asked.

"He hasn't done anything wrong, I just have some questions about his friend, Jimmy. May I come in?" West answered. He was putting on a fake smile, acting nice.

"Oh, sure. He's in his room. I'll go get him." Mr. Wheezer let West in.

"No, no, I'll talk to him in his room." West insisted.

"Oh! Well, it's just up the stairs to the left. You can't miss it!"

West started up the stairs and turned to the left. It had a bunch of llama pictures and posters on the door. Mr. Wheezer was right, he couldn't have missed it if he wanted to. He knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Carl opened the door to see a badge in his face.

"I'm Detective West, may I come in?" West lowered his badge.

"Do I even have a choice?" Carl laughed opening the door wider to allow his guest in.

"Look, I'm just here to ask you a few questions."

"Questions about what?"

"Your friend, Jimmy Neutron."

Carl stood there, knowing what was happening. Jimmy was on the run, and the cops wanted information. Libby, Sheen, and Cindy may have already given up information, but he wasn't about to give away his friend.

"Jimmy? What about him?" Carl asked, playing dumb.

"We have reason to believe that he was involved in a heist for the Red Cat gang. Do you know of this?" West explained.

"A heist? I had no idea!" Carl answered, lying through his teeth.

"Has he been speaking with the gang recently by any chance?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Do you know any members of the gang?"

"No, I don't."

"Okay, one last question. Do you by any chance know his current whereabouts?"

"I haven't spoken with him for weeks. I have no clue where he is or what's going on."

"You spoke to him weeks ago? What was it about?"

"We talked about sports, mainly."

"Sports? You talked about sports?"

"Yep."

West sighed and looked at Carl with eyes of a snake. He knew something was up.

"You aren't telling me the truth, Carl. I'm a trained detective. I know how to spot a liar. Now tell me the truth. He won't be hurt, and neither will you if you tell me the truth."

"I don't know what you're talking about! This is the god honest truth!" Carl was sweating. He knew he was gonna have to take one for the team by lying.

"Carl, look at me. I am a nice guy. And nice people like me want to be nice to people like you. However, when people like you take my kind nature and take advantage of it by telling me lies, it makes me feel that my generosity is unwanted. So, I stop being so damn nice." West was so intimidating.

"Uhhh…" Carl was dumbfounded. Should he tell this scary detective about Jimmy, or face the consequences, whatever they may be.

"Now you see, Carl, when I'm not being nice, I go right to being a heartless bastard. And, for your information, this heartless bastard has a loaded 36 caliber handgun by his side. Does that help persuade you, Carl?" West opened his jacket to reveal a gun in a holster around his waist.

"Look, sir. I want to help you, and I sure don't want to be shot, but I am telling you the truth. Now look at me and tell me if I'm lying when I say, I have no clue about Jimmy." Carl swallowed his only chance at living without pain.

There was a brief silence before West spoke.

"Ya like music, Carl?" West asked.

"Yeah." Carl answered, confused.

"Mind if I play some on that fine looking radio you got over there?" West looked at Carl's llama decorated radio.

"Go right ahead."

"What kinda music ya like, Carl?" West looked back.

"Ummm… I like country." Carl replied.

"Country? I like country too. There's just something about it that makes it feel so real. So honest. Am I right, Carl?"

"Y..yeah, I guess so."

West got up and walked on over to the radio, tuning it to a country station.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a treat for you. Here is a great song that every country fan has to love! Here's 'Dead Skunk' by Loudon Wainwright III!" the radio D.J's voice glared through the speakers.

"Oooh, I love this damn song." West began jokingly singing and dancing to the song before continuing.

"Hey Carl, you smell that?" West laughed.

"Smell what?" Carl was confused. What was this man doing?

"A dead skunk. I think I smell a dead skunk. You know what a skunk is, Carl?" West asked.

"An animal?" Carl answered.

"No! No! No! A skunk is Retroville P.D lingo for a dirty, stinking, no good liar. You know what? I think I found our dead skunk. I'm lookin' at him!" West then punched Carl right in the jaw, knocking him off his feet.

"Owww!" Carl moaned in pain. His jaw must've been broken.

"Let me tell you something, Carl. I love to torture people. Especially when I'm torturing someone to music. Like I said earlier, the great think about country music is that it is honest. That is something that you ain't. Now, I'm not gonna use this gun, not yet. I'm just gonna beat the spit outta you. Then, if you don't tell me what I wanna hear by the time this song's over, it's lights out for you, and your parents." West laughed as he wiped the blood from his fist.

"I don't know anything." Carl could barely speak.

"You don't know, huh? You don't know." West kicked Carl right in the gut. He started to dance around a bit, to the song, and kicked him a few more times. By now, Carl was coughing up blood.

"You know now, punk?" West asked. He wasn't even breaking a sweat.

"I.. I don't know…" Carl was wheezing hard now.

"Ha! Let me tell ya, I'm having the time of my life. I don't know about you, but I could do this all day!" West laughed, taking a few more swings at Carl's face and gut.

"The song's almost over, dickhead! Better fess up!" West yelled in Carl's ear.

"You can hurt me all you want, but you'll never know what you want to know." Carl laughed and spit blood on West's suit. Laughing hurt Carl. At that point, he was gonna die either way. It would be better to keep the secret and be shot sooner than fess up and lie there motionless, waiting for death to come.

"This was a new suit, jack-off. Now you got me pissed." West pulled out his gun, but didn't shoot. He drove the butt of it into Carl's nose instead.

"That hurts, don't it. Now, I'd say you have about thirty seconds left of the song before I blast your brains out. Now, every inch of me says to shoot you now, but I want information more then I want revenge. I'm a professional, Carl. Now you're gonna tell me what I want to know!" West eyeballed what he'd done. Carl was bleeding from a broken nose, coughing up blood, had bruises and cuts all over his face and gut, and had a black eye.

"Ten seconds! Better start talking!" West added.

"Screw you, hot-shot." Carl laughed.

"You ain't tellin' me, huh? Well guess what, song's over. Time to say goodbye." West loaded his gun and took aim. Then the phone rang.

"Pick up, Carl!" Mr. Wheezer yelled, "It's Cindy!"

"O..Okay!" Carl struggled to reply.

"Pick up." West told him, "Pick it up."

Cal crawled to the phone in his room and answered.

"H... Hello?" Carl struggled.

"Carl, did you hear the news. We've lost Libby." Cindy explained. Carl realized what was happening. West ran to the other room and picked up another phone, dragging it back to Carl so he could keep aiming the gun.

"Libby's dead?" Carl was too hurt to care too much. After all, he'd be seeing her soon.

"Yeah. We think that the detective Sheen spoke to was lying to us. The detective said Jimmy killed her, but we don't buy that. Anyway, we think Jimmy's probably going to come to see us for help." Cindy didn't notice West on the line.

"Cindy, don't say anything else, the detective is listening to…" Carl tried to warn her, but he couldn't finish. He'd forgotten that West was aiming a gun at him. One shot was all it took. West hung up the phone and left. Two more shot's where fired to kill Carl's parents. He reached into his pocket and called his boss.

"Well?" His boss answered.

"It's me. We have a scene over here. I tried interrogating Carl, but he tried to escape. He and his parents tried to run, so I shot them. I need an ambulance over here for the recently deceased." the detective explained.

He talked a bit more and hung up. The radio continued to glare country music. West turned and shot it to pieces.

"I friggin hate country music." He said as he left the room. Now he knew what the others know.

**How was it? Please Review and wait for chapter three, coming soon. See Ya!**


	3. Chapter 3

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Hello again happy campers! Please enjoy chapter 3 and like always: REVIEW!**

**Chapter Three:**

"Oh, god!" Cindy cried when she heard the gunshot on the other line, "Hello? Carl?"

At that moment, someone hung up. Cindy knew who it was. Detective West.

"Sheen!" Cindy called for him.

"What is it, Cindy?" Sheen asked.

"Umm, I think he shot Carl!" Cindy cried.

"Wait, what?! Who shot Carl?!" Sheen's face turned red with anger and sadness.

"Detective West! He shot Carl, probably trying to get information about Jimmy!"

"Oh man… that probably means he's coming after us!" Sheen made a big realization.

"Oh my god, you're right! What should we do?!" Cindy was panicking. You really can't blame her. I'd panic too if two of my friends were murdered and the killer was after me next.

"Well, this place ain't safe, that's for sure! Gather up your stuff and pack. We should be outta here in a half-hour. Chances are West is already on his way from Carl's. That gives us forty-five minutes tops." Sheen explained with a serious look in his eyes.

"Where are we gonna go?" Cindy asked.

"I think we should pay Jimmy's dad a visit. Jimmy may have spun by there. Maybe he knows where we can find him. Now go and pack!"

Meanwhile, Jimmy had been going from car to car hitchhiking to get to his destination. Jimmy had to find some members of Castillo's gang that didn't know of his beef with their boss. Luckily, he knew just where to find them. The ice cream parlor where he'd first gotten involved in the mess.

"Thanks for the ride." Jimmy thanked the last driver who'd taken him right outside the ice cream parlor before walking in.

"Hey Sammy." Jimmy greeted the owner of the place.

"Oh, hey Jimmy! What will it be?" Sam Jr. asked.

"Oh nothing, but I was wondering if I could see those guys I saw a while ago. You know, the gang." Jimmy whispered, cautiously surveying the shop to see if anyone was listening.

"Oh, that. Um.. I guess. They're in back." Sam Jr. directed Jimmy to where he wanted to go.

Jimmy carefully walked into the back hallway and remembered the door he'd stepped through. The first time he'd stepped trough that door, he had an ocean of automatic weapons aimed at him. He wondered if that would be the case this time. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Sure enough, at the sound of the door opening, all of the men in red and purple jerseys and bandanas raised their weapons at Jimmy.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! It's me, Jimmy Neutron. The guy that helped rob the place!" Jimmy couldn't control his voice out of fear. Did they even remember him? He got the answer soon enough.

"Hey! Lower the guns, hombres! Remember Sheen's friend? This is him!" one member announced. The men listened and lowered their guns.

"Hey, umm well I'm in a bit of a problem." Jimmy began.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! We got some questions of our own, man. What happened to Sheen, huh? We ain't seen him since he went to deliver your money in Madagascar." the man began as the rest shook their heads. This guy was bald and had a light goatee running down his chin. He wore no bandana, unlike the rest.

"Sheen's in the same problem I'm in. Let me explain." Jimmy explained everything, excluding the bits about Castillo. He didn't want these guys to know that he was an enemy of the man they work for.

"Oh, man. Uh, I'd say I could help, but I'd be lying. What do you guys think?" He turned to the others as they all started yelling out things in Spanish. Jimmy couldn't understand much.

"I don't think we can help, amigo. Maybe you can…" He began when another member came up to him and spoke to him in Spanish. It was a heated argument, but the leader finally gave in.

"Alright, look. Some of the guys think I could send you to Armando Montoya."

"Who?" Jimmy asked, puzzled.

"Armando Montoya. The merchant of crime. You know?"

"No, I don't know. Explain, please."

"Okay, well Armando Montoya was a member of this gang once upon a time. He was like the right hand man to Salvador Castillo Jr.. They were tight as hell, man. That is 'till Castillo got arrested for drug possession. When Castillo went to court, he was all against being jailed, so what did he do? He named names, one being Armando Montoya. Well, Castillo dodged jail time while Montoya went into jail. After serving three years of a ten year sentence, Montoya escaped by killing his philologist and two officers."

"Then what?" Jimmy was intrigued.

"Well, now Montoya was being chased, so he went back home to good 'ol Mexico. Now outta the cop's reach, he started up his own gang. They were for five years the leading source of crime in Mexico. After the gang collapsed, Montoya took the five-hundred million dollars he'd earned and started a new business. He give helping hands to criminals who can't get help elsewhere. He gives loans, sells guns, sells secrets, and trains those in need of training. Now, I take it that you probably need all of the above. Here's my offer. We'll help get you there and lend you some cash, but you gotta get Sheen back and repay us. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks guys." Jimmy was gracious beyond belief. However, If this Armando Montoya was as dangerous as he thought he thought he was, he was in for a hell of a time. At least he got a free ride to Mexico, where Detective West had no authority.

Meanwhile, Detective West was, sure enough, driving to Sheen's home. Maybe he could get some info out of him. Blasting music, Detective West was driving carelessly down the highway when a car cut him off.

"Mother fu… he cut me off!" West's anger issues began to come out again. This time it was a bit bigger.

West sped up and crashed right into the corvette that had cut him off, causing the airbags to suddenly pop up. West got out of his car and walked to the man in the other car.

"Hey, man! Look what you did to my car, man!" The man, a muscular, blond high-school student. Obviously the jock type.

"I'm Retroville police, shitface. Get down on the ground!" West pushed the man.

"Whoa, man. It's all cool man. You can have the car, man. Just please don't arrest me! I didn't even do anything!" The jock cried.

"Didn't do anything? You cut me off you son of a bitch! I'll have you in jail like that!" West screamed.

"Wait! You can't arrest me for that! I got rights, man!" The jock tried to be tough now.

"That's true. That's true, but quite friggin' frankly, I don't give a shit! Hell, I'll plant this gun on you! I'll break my own nose and charge you with assaulting an officer, but either way, your nuts are mine jackass!" West was having a total outburst.

After settling on just hit and run, West loaded the man into his car and the two drove off together to Sheen's house. What they didn't know and what West had failed to realize is that during the little event on the highway, Sheen's car drove past with Sheen and Cindy inside and a truckload of baggage.

After ringing the doorbell thrice, West kicked the door in.

"Look dude, I'm just gonna wait out here, okay?" the jock said.

"Nope. You're coming in with me or I'll kill you now." West said with a smile. He dragged the jock into the house and walked into the next room.

"What's your name, kid." West asked the jock.

"Bob Castro…" the jock replied.

"You got a family, Bob?"

"Yeah, my mom and dad. I got a girlfriend too."

"I'll be sure to apologize to them."

"Apologize for what?"

Just then, in one swift motion, Detective West pulled the gun from his holster and fired a single bullet through Bob's head with no remorse. West then removed his cell phone again.

"What you got, Troy?" the boss answered.

"I tried to find Sheen in his house, but he bailed. And guess what? I found a damn body in the place! The guy's name is Bob Castro. He was shot in the head. I have reason to believe that this man was killed by Sheen himself." West lied once again.

"I'll send an ambulance. And look, we found something interesting. We asked some people by the motel, and they say they saw a man matching Jimmy's description getting into a car for a lift. Well, we looked on our satellites and found that same car parked outside of a 1108 Parkway Drive, Meadowview. Guess who lives there?"

"Hit me." West said.

"One Hugh Neutron, the father of our guy. We are getting a warrant together as we speak for you to ask him a few questions."

"You don't say? I'll stop by for the warrant on my way." West told his boss.

At that time, the song "How to Save a Life" by the Fray came onto the radio in Sheen's low-rider.

"Turn it up." Cindy said.

"Why?" Sheen asked.

"I don't know, it just makes me think of Jimmy." She answered.

"Okay…," Sheen turned the knob up, "That okay?"

"Yeah." They both sat silently looking out the window, watching the trees, cars, and street signs go by. It all seemed so natural. So careless. At that moment, Cindy felt careless. She felt at piece for one moment.

"You think we'll ever get out of this mess." Cindy asked.

"You mean out of crime? Maybe. If Jimmy pulls off getting Castillo and Lazanno off our backs, then probably. Just don't think about it right now. I'm going to do all I can. Okay?" Sheen explained.

"Yeah, sure." Cindy smiled.

Sheen was telling the truth, mostly. He was going to do all he could, but he did have many doubts about Jimmy. He was going up against one of America's most dangerous gangs, the mafia, and a dangerous detective. How could anyone expect Jimmy to survive. Sheen and Cindy knew that there was one thing that strung them and Jimmy together at that time. They all shared a common feeling. Hope.

West stopped by the police station to pick up his warrant before heading out to Meadowview. Maybe he could suck some information out of Jimmy's dad. Unfortunately, it would be harder to get information from a loved one. He'd really have to step up his game for this guy.

He took one last stop to buy a steel pipe.

**How was it? Please review and be patient. Chapter four is on it's way! Bye.**


	4. Chapter 4

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Hello again! I am not getting enough reviews people! I want more!!! Anyways, enjoy this chapter and REVIEW.**

**Chapter Four:**

"Ding-Dong!" The doorbell echoed throughout the home of Hugh Neutron. Hugh was in the middle of baking a pie for himself when it rang.

"Coming!" Hugh called out as he walked to the door, still wearing his oven mitts.

"Mr. N!" Sheen smiled at the sight of his friend's father.

"Oh, Sheen! Come in! Come in!" Hugh greeted him with open arms, not yet noticing his daughter-in-law.

"Oh, hello there Cindy!" he finally noticed.

"Hi dad!" she hugged her father-in-law.

"Come on in, I'll make some coffee or something." Hugh directed them inside of his house. They all sat down at a small wooden table in the kitchen, drinking Hugh's coffee. It wasn't very good, but at least it was better than Libby's. But Sheen didn't want to think about Libby.

"So, what brings you two out here?" Hugh asked, swallowing some coffee.

"Well, we were wondering if by any chance you'd seen Jimmy recently." Cindy said.

"Oh.. well he did stop by earlier." Hugh replied.

"He did? What was it about?" Sheen asked.

"He came 'round asking for some cash. Now, I assume you know about his little problem by now, right?"

"Yeah, we've been trying to help him for some time now. Look, we were wondering if you knew where he is. Did he mention where he was going?"

"Where he was going, hmmm… Oh yeah! He mentioned something about meeting with the gang he helped for some help. I gave him a hundred bucks and he left. That's all I know." Hugh explained.

"To see the gang? Alright then! Thanks Mr. N!" Sheen laughed. Now he knew where Jimmy was. He could finally get in touch with him! Everything seemed to be going his way.

Then the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?" Hugh yelled through the door.

"Open the god-damn door old man! I've got a warrant to question you so open it!" the voice yelled. Sheen knew that voice. West.

"One second!" Hugh turned with a worried look on his face.

"That's the detective that shot Carl and Libby! We've gotta go!" Sheen panicked.

"The back door! Go, I can handle myself!" Hugh directed the two to the back door, where they left cautiously.

"Open the door, damn it! Open it or I'll break you in half!" West was getting angry again. He'd been having a bad, bad day and he wasn't about to let it get worse.

"I'm coming!" Hugh ran to the door and opened it slightly.

"Let me in!" West yelled.

"May I see your badge, please?" Hugh asked.

"My badge? Fine." West flashed his badge at Hugh.

"Okay, wait. You said you have a warrant? May I see it?" Hugh asked.

It was obvious to Sheen and Cindy what he was doing. Hugh was stalling the detective so they could go around the house and escape in their car. It was very risky of Hugh to do that. They knew as well as anyone how compulsive and dangerous West was. Either way, they had to take advantage.

"My warrant?! What are you trying to do, old man? Get yourself killed?! And believe me, that's what you're heading towards!" West's face turned red. Little did he know that Sheen and Cindy were slowly and silently tip-toeing to their car.

"Okay, come on in. Sorry to bother you, sir." Hugh finally opened the door completely and allowed West in. Cindy and Sheen were home free. Hugh closed the door behind them. Just then, the timer on the stove went off.

"Oh! You want some Pie?" Hugh smiled.

Just as Hugh finished, West punched him in the jaw.

"That hurts, don't it? You know why I did that, Hugh? You know why I hit you?" West looked down at his fallen victim.

"You don't like pie?" Hugh laughed. West stood there and began laughing.

"You're a funny guy, old man. You are really something. Now the reason I hit you is simple. You are a punk. You were trying to mess with be back there and I don't like being messed with. Now, I have had a long damn day, and you ain't helping all too much." West turned serious.

"Well I'm sorry you feel that way." Hugh held his jaw in pain.

"Now listen, Hugh. I think you know why I'm here, but if you are in the fog about this little visit, allow me to fill you in. Your son, shithead that he is, took part in a robbery of Retroville Bank a few weeks back and went on the run. Now we have reason to believe that he has murdered two people on his way to escaping. Did you know all that?"

"I..I had no idea. He did what?" Hugh lied. He had no other choice. What was he supposed to do, sell out his loving son? Hugh was not going to do that and was prepared for the punishment. He was going to receive. Little did he know that the punishment was a bit more than he'd planned on.

"You have no idea? Hmm.. well that is curious because our satellites sing a different tune. Now, we asked some witnesses and they saw Jimmy get into a car, hitchhiking. Now, we happened to see that same car just outside of this very shit-hole just a few hours ago. Jimmy came to visit you, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he was here." Hugh answered.

"Oh really? May I ask what that visit was all about? Funeral? Family visit? Help escaping the authorities and getting away with robbery and murder? Any of those ring a bell, old man?"

"He mentioned that he was going on vacation with his wife to the Bahamas." Hugh answered.

"The Bahamas, ay? Now what did that concern you?"

"He needed some cash, so I gave him a couple-hundred bucks. What do you want with me? I don't know anything other than that."

"Where is he going?" West asked.

"The Bahamas! I said that already."

"I mean, where is he really going?"

"I don't know!"

"Don't play dumb with me, dickhead! I know that you know where Jimmy is and you're gonna tell me!"

"I am telling you the truth! I don't know!" Hugh yelled. There was a brief silence and then West spoke again.

"Put your hand on that table." West ordered, directing Hugh to the kitchen table.

"What? Why?" Hugh asked.

"Just do as I friggin' say! Put your god-damn hand on the god-damn table!" West screamed.

"Okay, okay!" Hugh laid his hand flat on the kitchen table. He wasn't prepared for what came next.

West reached into his coat pocked and removed a sharp knife, and in one swift motion stabbed it into the hand of Hugh Neutron, nailing it against the kitchen table.

"Oh god! It hurts!" Hugh screamed in agony, trying to remove the knife. It wouldn't budge, as it was stiffly lodged into the wooden table.

"Feel like telling me now?! Huh?!" West screamed in his face, "Tell me where he is!"

"I said I don't know! Please, stop the pain!" Hugh cried.

"Fine. Just look at me, Hugh. You're doing this to yourself." West reached into his coat and removed a long, thick, steel pipe. Then, he nailed Hugh right in the gut with it. Hugh couldn't defend himself with only one hand.

"Oww!" Hugh screamed. That didn't change anything, as West continued swinging at him with the steel pipe. West continued beating his bloody, defenseless victim for over ten minutes before speaking again.

"You gonna tell me or what you piece of crap!" West angrily yelled. It was as if smoke was blowing out his ears as his face turned redder.

"I'm not telling you shit." Hugh barely mustered enough strength to say that.

"Okay.. Okay.. We can keep playing like that!" West laughed.

"You have a gun, why don't you just shoot me?" Hugh said.

"Excuse me?" West asked.

"Why don't you just shoot me with that gun?" He repeated.

"Oh, you mean this gun?" West removed the gun from its holster and set it on the table, "Wait! Wait! You probably mean this gun!" West reached into his boot and removed a hidden mini-pistol.

"Oww…" Hugh continued to moan as he watched.

"Oh! You must mean this one!" West finally turned around and removed his jacket, revealing a large, hidden holster with a shotgun in it, "Look Hugh, I ain't gonna bullshit you. I'll probably be using one of these, most likely the last one, on you eventually. Unfortunately for you, that won't be until I'm done with the pipe here. You can avoid that fate by telling me what I want to know!" West explained.

"Like I said, I ain't saying anything." Hugh looked at his bleeding, impaled hand. He could only imagine how his face looked.

"That's too bad. I guess you'll just need some more persuasion." West took another swing.

"Okay! Okay! He said he was going to meet a group of gang members at Sam's Ice Cream Parlor! Just please, don't hurt him!" Hugh finally gave up. After all, how much can a man really take before caving in?

"There! How hard was that?" West laughed, proud of his success.

"Just please, get me to a hospital." Hugh moaned in pain.

"Sorry to break it to ya, but there ain't no hospital in your future." West laughed as he grabbed the shotgun from it's holster. He mercifully armed the shotgun and took aim.

"Finally." Hugh said. Then his lights went blank.

Detective West reached into his pocket as he put away his guns and put his jacket back on. He removed his trusty cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Yeah?" His boss answered.

"Looks like I found another victim at the dad's place. Jimmy must be cutting everybody who knows about him. Anyways, send an ambulance and a raid squad. I have reason to believe that Jimmy is with some Red Cat members at Sam's. I need a fully armed back-up force to raid the place. I'll call you when I'm done." West hung up and waited for the ambulance and raid squad to arrive.

Meanwhile, Jimmy was getting ready to enter a car with three gang members. The men were to smuggle Jimmy across the border and into Mexico and accompany him to Mr. Montoya. It seemed simple, but it wouldn't be. There were going to be a lot of guards watching the roads into Mexico. Jimmy didn't have his passport, so he wasn't allowed into other countries. Hopefully these men knew what they were doing.

"So how are we gonna do this?" Jimmy asked about an hour into the trip.

"Well, we are gonna shoot the guards. It's that simple, amigo." One guy said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You're just gonna shoot them all? There'll be too many! You'll get us all killed or arrested!" Jimmy argued.

"We know what we're doing. All we gotta do is wait 'till one guy checks the trunk. That's when we shoot him through the back windshield. Now in case you didn't notice, we're packing two handheld machine-guns each. That's more than we need to take care of the usual twenty guys packing a simple pistol. Believe me, we've done this thousands of times. There ain't nothing to worry about!" The another reassured him.

"Whatever, just don't get us killed. I have to see this guy!" The men drove down the California border, where Retroville is located. It would only be an hour or two trip. Jimmy laid back and relaxed. He needed some sleep.

**How was it? Please review this and my other stories. Reviews keep me alive! Either way, chapter five is coming soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Hello again. I want more review please! Anyways, review and enjoy chapter five!**

**Chapter Five:**

"Finally! I thought you guys were supposed to have a six-minute response time!" Detective West laughed to the raid team when they arrived.

"That response time only applies to emergencies, sir." one man commented.

"Ah! Emergencies! Well let me see… THIS IS AN EMERGANCY!! I'VE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR THIRTY DAMN MINUTES!" West stopped laughing and screamed in the mans nervous face. The man they were assigned to work with had something of a reputation for his temper within the department.

"I apologize, Detective. We didn't know it was so urgent." The man humbly apologized.

"You're damn right it's urgent! I have a god-damn lead on this sucker and you dickheads are sitting on your asses! Just get in the cars, we're taking down Jimmy with the local Red Cats. They're at Sam's Ice Cream Parlor on 75th! Now I drive fast, so keep up!" West explained as he stepped into his car.

"You sure he's still there?" a raid member asked.

"Well he most certainly would be if you dumb-shits hadn't taken so long! Now we'll just have to see and get any leads we can otherwise." The men hit the road on their way to Sam's. It was gonna be a hell of a time.

"What are we doing! We're just gonna let Hugh get killed back there?! He's my step-father and Jimmy's only family other than me! We should turn around!" Cindy cried at the thought of the recent occurrences.

"Look, I would help him if there were anything we could do! If West was looking to get information, he's probably got it by now! If he was looking for a lead, he's probably found it by now! If he was out to kill Hugh, than unfortunately, it's probably already over." Sheen explained. It wasn't easy on him, either. Hugh was like a second father to him, growing up. He also didn't want to see Jimmy go through that.

"Don't say that! He isn't dead! There's no way!" Cindy's tears poured out like a waterfall.

"If West wanted him dead, than he's dead! Okay?! I ain't happy either, but we can't change it! Look, we know where Jimmy is, and we can warn him about West. That's about all we can do right now." Sheen showed a rare outburst of anger and sadness. He was usually a very easy-going guy. But not on that day. He'd lost two of his closest friends, his friend's father, and had to leave his house behind, all in one long day.

"Where is your gang at, anyway? All Hugh said was that Jimmy was meeting with them." Cindy wiped her tears and took a breath.

"We hide out in a back room of Sam's Ice Cream Parlor. We pay Sammy to keep quiet and provide us with the place. That's where we're heading." Sheen explained.

"Sam's Ice Cream Parlor?" Cindy held in laughter. That was about the last answer she'd been expecting.

"Yep.. guns and ice cream. How much better does life get?" Sheen laughed. Cindy let her laughs out, too, knowing that Sheen was cheering up.

The two arrived about five minutes later to an empty parking lot. All the gang members parked their cars at a nearby warehouse. Otherwise, the parking lot would be filled with gang-decorated low-riders packed to the brim with guns. They knew that that wouldn't help their host's business too much.

"Stay here." Sheen said to Cindy as he stepped out of their parked car.

"Stay here? Why?" Cindy had been expecting to come in.

"I just want you to watch the car and to be safe if anything happens. If Jimmy's in there, I'll come out and get you. Okay?" Sheen explained.

"Okay." Cindy sat back and relaxed as she watched Sheen walk into the parlor. What could possibly happen to put them in danger now?

Inside, Sheen quickly greeted Sammy and walked to the back room. He opened the door with anticipation. Would Jimmy be behind the door? He was about to see.

"Hey! Amigo!" the fill-in-leader (the one Jimmy had spoken to)'s face lit up at the sight of his friend and leader.

"How's it going, Jose?" Sheen greeted the man. So that was his name?

"We heard 'bout you're problemo, hombre. Your pal Jimmy stopped by here for help." Jose told Sheen.

"Yeah, I was wonderin' if ya'll knew were he was? All I heard was that he was with you guys." Sheen replied.

"Well, he asked us for some help, and we gave it to him." Jose answered.

"What did you do?" Sheen asked.

"We sent him to the merchant."

"Armando Montoya?" Sheen rubbed his ears to make sure he heard right.

"Yep. Some guys are bringing him across the border as we speak." Jose laughed.

Little did they know that something else was also going on as they spoke.

"Oh my god." Cindy looked out of her window when she heard overwhelming sirens blasting throughout the block. She saw about twenty police cars and one familiar ford car driving towards the shop. She knew who was there… Detective West. She quickly hid under the seat of the car.

"Alright boy's! I want everyone to follow me inside. We're taking him down tonight!" West turned to his troops and told them the plan. The marched inside the shop in a quick fashion, ignoring the car Cindy was in.

"Where are they?" West walked up to Sammy.

"W.. What?"

"WHERE-ARE-THEY!!!??"

"In the back! First door to your left! Please don't hurt me!" Sammy ducked under the counter in fear.

"Let's go, boys!" West signaled with his gun towards the back hallway. They barged in like a storm.

"Nobody move! You're all under arrest for gang participation!" West announced to the shocked gang members and an equally shocked Sheen.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You can't arrest us, man!" Jose yelled, obviously angry, "You know who we are?"

"I give up…" West laughed sarcastically.

"You looking for Jimmy?" Sheen turned to the man who'd killed more friends of his in one knight than he'd thought possible.

"Bingo! What prize do have for this fine young man? What's that? A one way trip to prison! Sounds like a hell of a prize!" West laughed, and his crew followed in his laughter.

"You killed Libby and Carl, and I get the feeling you gilled Mr. Neutron too." Sheen said with an angry face.

"Oh, so you must be 'ol Sheeno! Sorry if I made a bad first impression, now which one of you is gonna tell me where Jimmy is?" West asked.

"You aren't getting anything from us." Jose answered the detectives question. With that, the entire gang pulled out their respective guns.

"Well, well, well! Looks like you're all armed. Lemme see some permits!" West was having fun. It was then that more men arrived.

About ten men, all in black suits with red ties and pistols barged into the now crowded room moving in-between the police and the gang. Everyone knew who they were.

They were Lazanno's people.

"Who in the blue hell are you?" West asked. The man in front answered that question.

"Hello, Mr. West. I'm insulted by your failure to recognize me. I'm Vito Fezinni. I serve as consigliere, or counsiler, to Don Lazaanno. First of all, I must thank you, detective, for leading us here. We too, are looking for Jimmy, and my employer sent us. Now, we would like information on Jimmy's wereabouts as well, Mr. Estevez." the man explained.

Sheen stood in fear. He was in the middle of a showdown between the mafia, the police, and his own gang. Things were about to get ugly.

"We ain't telling you nothing, man!" Jose said, angrily.

"Wait one second, buddy! You say you're from Lazanno's mafia? Hell, you're under arrest too!" West aimed his gun at Vito.

"You couldn't arrest us all, Detective West. There's only about twenty of you, and there's ten of us and about fourty cats. Now is it just me, or are you a little over your head, detective?" Vito laughed.

"You laughing at me, you Itallian piece of shit! You can take your spiggetti ass and get outta my country! Nobody laughes at me!" West's face turned red as he got madder. Here comes another outburst.

"Wait one second here, man! You even got a warrant, Mr. Detective?" Jose stepped forward.

"Do I have a warrant? Do I have a warrant?! Here's my warrant you piece of crap!" the Detective quickly turned his gun and fired a single bullet into Jose's forehead.

The rest was a blur. Every man in the room, minus Sheen, started blasting their guns at their enemies. Bullets whizzed past Sheen like jet plains. Left and right, cops were shot my cats, cats were shot by mafia men, mafia men were shot by cops, cats were shot by cats, and so on. Screams filled the room as Sheen surveyed the carnage.

Detective West was firing away at the few mafia men left when a bullet from a cat caught West in the leg. West hardley seemed to notice as he just continued blasting away. A cop fired a bullet into Vito's gut, knocking him to the ground. Layers upon layers of Sheen's fellow red cats fell like targets to the vicious police. That was all Sheen could stand.

Sheen stood up and ran to the door, shoving down a few cops in the meantime. He caught a bullet in the shoulder, but it wasn't too bad. Barely a flesh wound. Sheen jumped out the door and ran to the car. He opened it in a flash, but couldn't find Cindy.

"Cindy?! Cindy, where are you?!" Sheen panicked, thinking the worst.

"Down here! Just drive, Sheen! The cops and mafia are… Oh my god your hit!" Cindy cried as she got up from under her seat.

"I know I'm hit, but it's only a flesh wound! I'll live! Look, Jimmy's going across the border to Mexico to see a man named Armando Montoya. He should help Jimmy. We should probably go too." Sheen explained to Cindy, relieved to see her face.

"I don't have my passport!" Cindy realized.

"No problem. I've gotten people across the border thousands of times. Just do as I say when we arrive." Sheen and Cindy drove off, on their way to Mexico.

"Now are you gonna tell me what I wanna here, buddy, or to I have to shoot you too?" Detective West was stepping on a fallen gang member's neck holding a gun to his face. The fight was pretty much over. Only West and a few cops remained. All of the Red Cats, minus the one under West's boot, were dead. All of Lazanno's men were dead too, with their suits now as red as their ties. Little did West know, however, that Vito Fezinni was alive as well.

"Que?" the Red Cat moaned. Que means what in Spanish.

"You don't speak English, huh? Well let me say it real damn slow. DO YOU KNOWO WHERE JIMMY IS?" West was so ignorant and evil.

"I speak Spanish, sir. May I ask him?" One of the remaining cops said.

"Whatever, just get an answer." West replied. He stepped off the gangster, but continued aiming with the gun. After quickly translating, the cop turned to West.

"He says that Jimmy is with three Red Cats on their way to Mexico to see some Armando Montoya fellow." the cop told his boss.

"Ask him what he's doing there." West added.

"He says that Montoya will train Jimmy and sell him things he needs."

West looked at the Red Cat and laughed.

"Thanks a bunch…" West said before firing a shot at the man. Then, he noticed Vito moving across the room. He was reaching into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Vito pressed a speed-dial number and spoke to a man.

"Jimmy's going to Mexico, sent guys to the border to stop him!" Vito yelled through the phone to a man that could only be Maxx Lazanno.

"Hey!" West yelled and fired a round into Fezinni. He wanted to ensure that Vito's name showed up in the obituaries.

"So what now?" the other cop asked West.

"Looks like we're going to Mexico." West answered.

"But we don't have authority there, sir." the cop added.

"Does it really look like that's gonna stop me." West replied as he surveyed the damage. It was time to call his boss.

**How did you like it? Please review and be patient. Chapter Six is coming soon! Bye! **


	6. Chapter 6

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Welcome Back… PLESE REVIEW and enjoy chapter six!**

**Chapter Six:**

"We almost there?" Jimmy moaned as he adjusted in his seat. He'd just woken up from some much needed sleep.

"Almost, amigo. I'd say 'bout five minutes." One of the guys replied.

"Thank god, I'm getting pretty hungry." Jimmy sighed.

"Everybody got their guns ready?" another guy asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready hombre. Here, give Jimmy a gun." the third suggested as he drove.

"Me? No, no, no! I don't even know how to use one of those!" Jimmy insisted as one handed him a pistol.

"It's simple. Pull this top part back, release, aim, and pull the trigger. Then, Boom! They're dead!"

"That easy?" Jimmy asked with a look on his face that said, you're lying to me and I know it.

"That easy, amigo. Now get ready to duck. When we pull in, a man should come up behind us and check our trunk. Now we're gonna shoot from here through the back windshield and if you're in the way, we ain't gonna stop to realize. Got it?"

"Got it, but what am I supposed to do other than duck? I mean, can't I help?" Jimmy asked.

"Well you could shoot some guys for us."

"That's not what I meant. I mean, I'm a smart guy. I could help get us through this." Jimmy added.

"Look Jimmy, bullets can be better than brains at times. It just depends on the situation. Now, If the border patrol pops our trunk and sees the thousands of dollars and guns we've got stashed in there, what do you think they'll be using? Brains or bullets?" The driver explained.

"Bullets?"

"That's right, amigo. And the way we see it, if they use bullets and we use brains, who's gonna live and who's gonna die?"

"They live, we die?" Jimmy looked at his gun and thought of the first time he'd killed a man, back in Madagascar. Shorty and his men had attempted to kill him at his house, so he killed one of them and talked his way out of getting killed by the others. That was self-defense, though. This time he was with gang members illegally crossing the border by killing innocent people who were just doing their jobs.

"Why do we have to kill them?" Jimmy asked his car-mates.

"Looks like we don't have to, amigo…" the driver stared in shock through the windshield and Jimmy soon joined him. All of the border patrolmen were dead. Not one of them was without a bullet in them. What had happened? Did somebody else come by and kill them? Jimmy had almost forgotten that there were other criminals in the world, not just him, Sheen, Lazanno, Castillo, and the Red Cats. He found his answer quickly.

It was at that very moment that about ten or so men in black suits with red ties. Lazanno was trying to stop him from crossing. Jimmy was wondering when Lazanno was going to make a move.

"Get down!!" the driver yelled, and they did just that. All four ducked down as bullets upon bullets burst through the windshield, piercing everything they hit. The driver and the man riding shotgun jumped out of the car blazing. They had a machine-gun in each hand, so that's four machineguns all firing in different directions.

"I'm going out, Jimmy. You can stay if you want, just get to Montoya. You can get directions from just about anyone, he's well known across the border." The third man, the man in the back seat with Jimmy, told him. He went out blazing as well.

What should Jimmy do? He had a gun, but had problems using it. Should he just watch these men kill each other. Either way, he had to get across the border. Jimmy quickly moved into the driver's seat and got ready to push the pedal. He was getting across that border.

One by one the three men were shot, and when the last one died Jimmy struck. There was one mafia man left, and he would be gone soon. Jimmy pressed the ignition and charged at the man, hitting him like a fly with a flyswatter.

"Oooh!" Jimmy couldn't help feel the excitement from avenging his three fallen comrades, and sending Lazanno a message. However, done of that amounted to the level of excitement he felt when his front wheels crossed the Mexican-American border. He was home free.

Jimmy stopped at a nearby gas station to find directions.

Meanwhile, Sheen and Cindy were about ready to go through a similar experience.

"So how are we doing this?" Cindy asked her friend.

"Well, when the guy asks for our passports, I want you to stick your hand under that blanket you have back there and point it at him, like you have a gun under it. I'll do all of the talking." Sheen explained.

"Will it work?" Cindy wondered out-loud.

"I don't know, I've always done it with a real gun." Sheen smiled.

"Perfect, and what if it doesn't work?"

"I really haven't thought about that yet. I'm really a spur of the moment kinda guy."

Cindy shrugged off her concerns, as she was fairly confident in her friend. It was then that she realized something. Was she becoming a criminal? Was she becoming what she didn't ever want to be. Look at the list! She fled from the police, twice. She approved of her husband participating in a robbery, and now she was going to illegally cross the border to Mexico? She could almost feel her innocence crawl away.

"Alright we're he…" Sheen began, but never finished. He caught sight of what was in front of him. Bodies. Bodies as far as the eye could see.

"Oh my god, Sheen! Who are they?" Cindy cried.

"Looks like some border patrollers, some of Lazanno's men, and some of my gang!" Sheen answered with wide eyes.

"What do you think happened?"

"Well, I'm betting those three gangsters where bringing Jimmy across, but they ran into Lazanno's guys. They must've tried to stop him from crossing, and the patrol guys must've gotten involved." Sheen answered, surveying the corpses for a familiar face.

"What about Jimmy?" Cindy asked.

"Well, I don't see his body anywhere, so he must've crossed on his own once everyone else was dead!" Sheen told her. They hugged about the fact that Jimmy was probably still alive and that all of these others died instead. Sounds like a bad thing to celebrate about, huh?

Anyways, the two drove on across the border with absolutely nobody to stop them. However, somebody who would have loved to stop them arrived to the border next.

"Whoa, what happened here?" One of the two cops with Detective West asked.

"Looks like a massacre. I see some Red Cats, some Italian Mafia guys and a bunch of dead border patrollers." the other replied.

"Oh, well no shit Sherlock! Figure that out on your own, huh?!" West laughed. Sounds hard to believe that a man could laugh at the sight of about thirty dead people. That was the kind of person Detective West was. The kind of person who laughs at funerals.

"Man, looks like a shoot-out! Jimmy must've been here!" one cop mentioned.

"So, Officer Dipshit, are we gonna move the car across the finish line soon or what?" West looked at the driving officer.

"We should call some ambulances. We can't just leave these bodies all over the street!" the cop replied.

"Look, I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS DISNEY BULLSHIT! Just move the car or you'll be joining them!" West screamed as he pulled out his gun to point at the cop's head.

"Okay! Okay! I'm moving the car!" the cop insisted and did as he was told. He drove across the border and into the nearest town. The very town that Jimmy, Cindy, and Sheen were also in. They were about a mile into the town when another car sped past them.

"He's speeding! I should stop him!" The driving cop said.

"We don't have authority down here, dicko. Besides, we don't have time." West said.

"Well I'm doing something." the driver insisted and sped up.

"Turn into this parking lot!" West yelled.

"No, I have to get this guy!" the driver said again.

"DO IT NOW!" West finally pulled a gun out and pressed it to the driver's head.

"Okay, fine!" the driver took a sharp turn into the parking lot of a 7-11, "Now what?"

West quickly pulled the trigger and emptied a bullet into the driver's blond-haired head.

"Holy Sh..!" the other cop screamed.

"You gonna go all heroic on me jackass?" West turned to the other.

"No! Oh god no! I'll do whatever you say, just don't kill me, please!" The cop cried.

"Okay! Okay! Don't piss your panties! I'm driving, so move the body." West told the cowering cop.

"Move it where?" he asked.

"Push it in back! Go, go, go!" West signaled for him to hurry up.

"Okay, now what?" the cop asked, fearfully.

"We should stop at a motel. There's one, down the street! It's getting late and I've had a long damn day." West replied.

"Then what to we do about Neutron?"

"We track him down and arrest him, or better yet, kill him. Nobody makes me leave my own country and lives." West pulled into the motel and parked the car. He didn't appear to notice the Red Cat car belonging to the men who drove Jimmy parked across the row.

He didn't seem to notice Sheen's car either.

**How'd you like it? Please review and wait for chapter seven, coming soon! Bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Hello again, buddies! PLEASE REVIEW OR I WILL KILL YOUR CAT! (Just Kidding, but do review!). Anyways, enjoy chapter seven!**

**Chapter Seven:**

Jimmy put his gun into the bedside drawer in the motel room. It was pretty much all you could expect from a cheap, roadside motel. You have the mediocre double-bed up against the wall, the nightstand with a cheap alarm-clock radio, and your small desk with a lamp that barely lights up anything.

"What a day…" Jimmy yawned as he laid back onto the bed. It was finally darkening outside, as he could see through his tiny window. After all, he'd watched his friend get shot, ran from the police for a while, stolen from a gang lord, and illegally jumped the Mexican-American border.

Little did he know that both Carl and his father were dead too.

Jimmy had a lot to think about. He'd failed to get directions to Montoya's house from that 7-11 owner. He'd also tried a gas-station owner with the same result. Both men ran away at the sound of that name, 'Armando Montoya'.

Jimmy knew that he'd probably be afraid as well if he didn't need help so desperately. He didn't know much about the man he was going to see, and you always fear most what you don't know about. Besides, from what Jimmy did know of him, he didn't seem like the kinda guy you'd like to meet in a dark alley.

Either way, Jimmy had to know where to go next. Should he just continue asking around? That probably wouldn't lead to much success. Should he try to make contact with the gang for directions? No, that might be too difficult to get in touch with them. So what should he do?

Jimmy finally put the question to rest. The last thing he needed was another thing on his mind. Other topics included Sheen and his wife's whereabouts. Another was whether or not Castillo or Lazanno were sending anyone soon?

And what about Detective West? That didn't matter, he thought. West didn't even have authority in Mexico! Jimmy finally settled on just getting some sleep.

He was going to need it for tomorrow.

Down the hallway was another room with some familiar faces inside. Sheen and Cindy were just settling in.

"What do we do tomorrow, Sheen?" Cindy asked as she brushed her teeth. She was dressed in a small nightgown and was about ready to go to bed.

"We should," Sheen stopped to spit as he brushed his teeth, "probably try to find Jimmy somewhere and get this wound all fixed up." Sheen signaled to his gunshot wound in his shoulder that he'd suffered from the fight earlier. It wasn't hurting much, nor was it bleeding much, but it was probably a good idea to get it treated.

"Yeah, we should stop by a hospital soon. It's starting to look worse."

"Yup, now lets get some sleep." Sheen agreed and walked from the bathroom to the bed, but noticed something odd.

"There's only one bed…" Sheen said awkwardly.

"Ohhh... yeah… um.." Cindy realized too, "I guess we could share it…"

"I guess, just keep your distance.. I don't want to do anything weird." Sheen explained.

"I won't do anything weird, I'm married!" Cindy laughed.

"O.. Okay, Ci.. Cindy." Sheen mumbled. He was obviously getting woozy. Sheen spun around in a daze, sweating.

"Sheen? Are you okay?" Cindy asked, concerned. Sheen couldn't hear her. Everything was blurring up, and he looked to his wound. It was starting to hurt a lot. He finally collapsed to the floor.

"Oh my god, Sheen!" Cindy cried. She tried reviving him for a few seconds before running to the phone. She dialed 911 as soon as possible.

The people on the other line began speaking in Spanish. Unfortunately for Cindy, she couldn't speak the native language of the country she was in! She quickly hung up, knowing it was no use at all. Her only hope was that somebody in the motel could help.

"Hello! Help!" Cindy went door to door, looking for help. Nine out of every ten doors she stopped at couldn't speak English. Then there were tourists who couldn't help whatsoever. Then there was room A11.

"Please help!" Cindy knocked over and over on the door. Inside that very door, a man awoke after getting about five minutes of sleep and opened the door, dazed. Nothing could have prepared him for what was on the other side of that wooden door.

Jimmy opened the door and stood, shocked and speechless at the woman on the other side.

"J..Jimmy?" Cindy stood in equal disbelief.

"Cindy?" Jimmy managed to muster the strength to speak.

The two quickly embraced and shared a romantic kiss. They hadn't seen each other since they left Madagascar. They had to share this moment, and they would have, had Sheen not been lying emotionless and dying.

"Honey, Sheens dying in my room from a gunshot! We need help!" Cindy explained in a panic.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What??!" Jimmy had trouble processing everything that was happening.

"Sheen's dying, we need your help!" Cindy repeated, looking in all different directions for some sort of sign.

"Okay, lets ask the front desk if there are any cops or paramedics in the building." Jimmy explained, grabbing his wife and heading to the front desk. He quickly began speaking in Spanish.

"¿Hay policía en el edificio?" Jimmy said, which means: Are there any police in the building?

"Sí, hay alguna policía Americana en el espacio B9." the woman answered, which means: Yes, there are some American police in room B9.

"Gracious!" Jimmy quickly thanked the woman and ran to the room. He knocked three times.

"Okay, okay, what is it?" the cop said, tired as if he'd just woken up.

"Look, we have a gunshot victim in our room and we need your help!" Jimmy explained loudly.

"Shhh! Calm down, lets step outside." the cop quieted Jimmy down, "What's your name?"

"Jimmy Neutron."

The cop's face went blank. He looked back inside the room to ensure the other man in there was sleeping.

"Listen closely! My name is Officer Gregory Wade, and me and the man in there are supposed to find and arrest you!" the cop began.

"Oh, god!" Jimmy realized his mistake and was about to hold up his hands when the cop continued speaking.

"It's okay, I don't want to arrest you, so I'll help you. Now, Detective West will kill me if he finds out about this, so keep quiet and leave here when I'm finished. Now bring me to him."

Jimmy was relieved to have a nice guy like Officer Wade help him. He lead Wade up the stairs and to Cindy's room, with Cindy right behind them.

"There he is!" Cindy cried as she showed the man Sheen's unconscious body., "Is he still alive?"

"He's breathing, so listen. I can get the bullet out and revive him, but I need you to do as I say. Can you do that?" Wade explained.

"Whatever you say, officer." Cindy and Jimmy said at the same time.

"Somebody go into the mini-kitchen and get me two knives."

"Okay." Jimmy ran into the kitchen and removed two steel knives from the drawer by the refrigerator. Jimmy couldn't help but notice that Cindy's room was bigger and better than his.

"Here." Jimmy handed him the knives. Officer Wade quickly took them and pried the bullet from the shoulder of Sheen.

"Okay, now I need that lamp over there!" Wade yelled to Cindy. Cindy quickly ran to the lamp and unplugged it.

"No, keep it plugged!" Wade corrected her. She plugged it back in and handed it to Wade. Wade removed the shade from the top and pressed his hands against the tip. It shocked his fingers. Perfect!

Officer Wade took the lamp and yelled, "Clear!", as he thrust the lamp into Sheens chest. It shocked Sheen and pulled his chest into the air. He did it again.

"Should he be back yet?" Cindy asked, nervously.

"This time should do it!" Wade answered and thrust it into his chest again, "Clear!!"

"Ahhh!" Sheen gasped as he shocked back to life, "What happened?"

"You passed out from your gunshot wound. You're back now." Jimmy explained, happy at the sight of his friend.

"Jimmy? Is that you?" Sheen looked at his pal, confused.

Jimmy and Cindy quickly explained their experiences to each other. Jimmy was told of Carl's death and the supposed 'rat' in the gang. Sheen and Cindy where asked directions to Armando Montoya's. Sheen knew the way, and offered to bring them there. Nobody brought themselves to mention Jimmy's father.

"So, you'll bring me to Armando's?" Jimmy asked as they walked to their cars. Officer Wade had said for them to leave, so they were. They could change clothes later.

"Yeah, man. We got some catching up to do!" Sheen laughed as they all stepped into Sheen's car, leaving Jimmy's behind.

They drove off into the distance, united again.

**How was it? Chapter eight is coming soon, so REVIEW!!! Bye.**


	8. Chapter 8

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Helloes! Anyways, REVIEW (Not that you are listening to me.. and thanks to the one guy who does…) and enjoy chapter eight!**

**Chapter Eight:**

"I heard some noise Greg. What was going on?" Detective West awoke when Officer Wade reentered their motel room.

"Nothing, just some lost couple trying to find their way." Wade answered.

"Lost couple? And this lost couple is just going to go around waking up all of the other guests?"

"Look, I have no control over who does and doesn't have good manners! They needed help so I helped 'em!" Wade was getting overly defensive. That was a mistake, as Detective West was skilled in detecting a liar.

"Let me tell you a story, Greg." West began.

"Oh no, no more of your crap!" Greg Wade began backing up to the door.

"Once upon a time, there was this boy, this peasant boy. Well one day, that boy ran around the mid-evil town to find a job to do. Finally, he ran into this large, serious, knight in shining armor." West began.

"Uh hu…" Wade was listening, but more so concentrating on his hand moving toward the doorknob. He had to make a run for it.

"Well the knight has had a long day of slaying dragons and evil wizards and what-not, so he licks his lips. 'I am hungry!', the knight roars. Well the boy sees his opportunity and says, 'I can go and get you apples from the apple tree, noble knight.'" West continued.

"Yeah…" Wade still moved his hand to the doorknob, slowly.

"Well, the knight accepts and the boy runs and brings him back some apples. The knight is happy with this boy, so he assigns him that noble task every day. Eventually, the boy sits by the tree and yawns, 'I'm so hungry!'. Well the boy looks up and sees the apples. He decides to eat some of the apples he'd been assigned to bring to the knight!"

"Okay…" Wade kept moving.

"Now, each week the boy arrived with less and less apples, so the knight got suspicious. Finally, he goes to the boy and asks, 'What has been happening to all my apples?'. Well the boy, with a fearful look on his face, says, 'Well, this starving couple ran by and told me they needed food. I needed to help them so I did!'. Two seconds later, the boy was dead. You know why the knight killed the boy, Greg?" West finished his grim story.

"I.. I.. I.. don't know." Wade was so close, but felt he was still too far away.

"That fearful look on the boys face. Any well trained man can recognize a liar when they see one, and that's what the knight saw. A no good liar. Now I look at you, and I realize that I ain't too different from the knight!" West reached for his pistol. Wade had to go now!

Officer Wade pulled open the door and ran with all he had, but it wasn't enough. West was a bad man, but sure knew how to use his gun. It only took one shot. West inspected the body and pulled out his cell phone.

"This better be good, it's 2:00 in the god damn morning!" the boss exclaimed, as though just waking up.

"Depends on what you mean by 'good', sir. I've just found my officers down, gunshots in each. Looks like Jimmy caught me at a blank spot. Anyway, I think I'm hot on his trail, and I'll call back later." West made it short and to the point. He quickly ran to the front desk.

"Excuse me ma'am, but have there been any strange occurrences recently?" West said.

"Que?" the lady asked.

"Son of a…!" West, angered at the lack of understanding, removed his shotgun from his holster and shot the lady in the chest. He looked for any onlookers, and made one last call to his boss.

"Boss, I'm gonna need a god damn translator down here, too." West finally walked back to his room to get dressed and wait. He had to go to Montoya's soon. As soon as he got his translator.

Meanwhile, Jimmy and the others had stopped by another hotel to change and moved on.

"How long until we get there?" Cindy whined, jokingly.

"Should only be about fifteen more minutes. When we get there, I'm gonna introduce myself and explain the story to him. He'll help any enemy of Salvador's. He too hates Castillo." Sheen explained.

"So he'll help me take him down?" Jimmy asked.

"He'll give you guns, secrets, training, all kinds of things, but he won't leave his house. He's a very conservative and mysterious man. And don't anger him, or you won't live to use his teachings."

"How do you know all this, Sheen? Did you train with him?" Cindy asked.

"No, but a lot of other commanding members of the gang have. I was supposed to go, but never got around to it." Sheen answered. Jimmy was still a bit frightened by this Montoya man.

"So you'll do all the talking, and I'll do all the training. By the way, does he speak English?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, he's fluent in Spanish and English."

"And what about money? We don't have much if anything to pay him with!" Cindy had a good point.

"When he learns our cause, he'll volunteer to help us for free. I know it." Sheen was confident. Did Montoya truly hate the Castillo family that much? Jimmy doubted that he'd just train him and supply him with weaponry for free. A man has to make a profit, right?!

The three's car pulled into the driveway of a huge house. It was almost, but not quite, the size of Castillo's luxury home. It was painted purple and had vines and plants hanging from the sides.

"You guys stay here, I'll go talk to him." Sheen stepped out of the driver's seat and walked up the long path to the front door. Sheen knocked on it as hard as he could to be sure that Montoya could hear it inside the huge place. The door opened rather quickly, and a man stuck his head out.

"Hello?" the man said.

"We're here to see an Armando Montoya." Sheen told the man.

"I'll go get him. Come on in." The man opened the door wider and let Sheen inside.

"Mr. Montoya! There's a man here to see you!" The man called out. He appeared to be a butler of some sort to Montoya.

It was about a minute until another man walked down the nearby spiral staircase. He was of what appeared to be Cuban decent. He had a long, black beard hanging from his nose to chest. He dressed in a black suit. It wasn't too fancy, nor was it ugly. His bald head reflected the rising sun. He looked mean. So serious.

"What's your business here?" Armando Montoya spoke with a deep, menacing voice. Sheen gulped. Armando was more frightening that even he had imagined.

"I.. I come to you from the United States. You see, I am a member of the Red Cats, like you once were, but I am a rebel from its leader, Salvador Castillo III. I come to you with a friend. This friend has been on the run from not only Salvador, but the police and the mafia for days. He is without a weapon or training. We were hoping you would help by training him with the use of a gun." Sheen explained fearfully.

"Sounds like he is in quite some trouble, but I will help him for the proper price. How does $20, 000." Montoya replied.

"Well, sir, that's the thing. He and I are without much money. We were wondering if you could perhaps train him anyways… without the money." Sheen hesitated, fearing the man's response.

"What makes you think I'd accept that? I have bills to pay." Montoya didn't change the expression on his face or in his voice for an instant.

"Because we were planning to use the training to take down Castillo and therefore end the Castillo family that you've hated all of your life." Sheen replied.

"End the Castillo family? You're trying to take out that monster of a stain on the planet Earth with my training? Sounds very tempting… show me the one who needs training." Montoya showed an expression change. The expression appeared to be consideration.

"Okay, I'll be right back." Sheen turned and walked back to the car.

"What happened?" Jimmy asked his friend.

"He wants to see you, but I think he's gonna accept the offer. Just follow me." Sheen replied, grabbing Jimmy's arm and pulling him out of the car eagerly. The two walked back up to the door and walked in. Jimmy feasted his eyes upon the man he'd so eagerly been waiting to see. It was almost what he'd expected, minus the beard.

"H..Hello, sir. I'm Jimmy Neutron. I seek training from you." Jimmy said in fright and awe of the man.

"If you want my help, you must never stutter out of fright again. You stuttered when you said hello, showing me that you're afraid of me. If your enemy knows you're afraid of them, they'll take advantage of your fear. Understand?" Montoya explained in a tough, serious tone. This man knew what he was doing, Jimmy knew.

"O..Oka, I mean okay sir." Jimmy quickly corrected himself.

"What guns can you handle, boy?" Montoya asked.

"I can barely handle a pistol. That's it." Jimmy replied, embarrassed.

"A pistol? We'll have a lot of work to do, Jimmy. By the time you leave this house again, you'll know how to use five types of pistols, a sniper rifle, seven types of machine guns, grenades of all shapes and sizes, many knives, and a normal rifle. You'll also learn how to strangle and disarm a man, learn the art of martial arts, and how to diffuse bombs and land mines. Are you truly prepared for the journey ahead of you?"

"Yes, I'm ready." Jimmy answered. Really, he didn't feel he was.

"Okay, I'll train your friend. It will take about three months." Montoya turned to Sheen.

"Only three months for all of that?" Sheen asked, astonished.

"We sleep two hours a night when I'm in a good mood, spend fifteen minutes a day eating for breakfast, lunch, and dinner combined, and work the rest of the time. Basically, we'll accomplish in three months what most couldn't do in three years."

Jimmy gulped in fear. Barely any sleep or food?! How could he even train under those conditions? He was having second thoughts.

"Alright, Jimbo. I'm off. I'll come see you in a month or two with Cindy, okay?" Sheen turned to his pal.

"You aren't staying around?" Jimmy looked sad.

"Sorry, but I've got a rat to find back in Retroville. It was god to see you again, man." Sheen explained, sticking out his hand.

"It was nice to see you too, Sheen." Jimmy shook his friend's hand and turned to his new trainer, "May I go say goodbye to my wife, sir?"

"If you must, but don't take long. We'll get started when you return." Montoya answered. Jimmy was half expecting for Montoya to refuse.

Jimmy walked outside with Sheen and turned to his wife.

"Looks like this is goodbye for now…" Jimmy said.

"Looks like it… well it was good to see you again." Cindy said.

"Sheen said that you guys will come and visit in a month or so." Jimmy told her.

"Then I'll see you then…" Cindy replied.

The couple looked each other in the eyes before embracing and sharing a long kiss. Sheen got into the driver's seat and waved to Jimmy as he pulled out with Cindy in the back seat. Jimmy waved back and watched the car until it was out of sight. He turned back to the house, where Montoya stood in the doorway.

It was going to be a long three months.

**So… How was it? Chapter nine is coming soon, so be patient. By the way, there will be about one or two more chapters in part three before I go on to part four. I might also do my war story "Why We Fight" before part four, so enjoy that. Anyways, REVIEW!!! and goodbye.**

… **REVIEW!!!**


	9. Chapter 9

**An American Crime Saga Part Three**

**Helloes! Sorry for the wait, but I was preparing for my next story (after ACS Parts 4 & 5), 'Why We Fight'. Anyway, here's chapter, uhhh… nine! And… REVIEW!!!!**

**Chapter Nine:**

"BOOM!" a large and loud boom shook the house of Mr. Montoya as Jimmy fired an AK-47 at several targets in a row.

Jimmy had now been training for two and a half months, and was skilled with a seemingly endless list of weaponry. Jimmy was nearing the end of all the restless nights, exhausting training, and impatience. Impatience to get his money back from that detective who'd taken two close friends from him. Impatience to get out of his debt to Lazanno. Impatience to get his life back in order, crime free.

"Very good, Jimmy. You're getting better than me at all of this, and I must compliment you on your fast learning skills. You've made it easier on me as well as yourself. Now go get some rest, tomorrow we must refresh your memory on the art of bomb defusing." Montoya explained as he fell into a large char behind him.

"Thanks, sir. How soon do you think until we're through all this?" Jimmy asked.

"Not too long. You have learned most of what I know."

"Okay then, I'll go get some rest." Jimmy turned towards the spiral staircase and walked three steps before turning back.

"Oh, and have Sheen and Cindy called by any chance?" Jimmy asked. He hadn't heard from his wife and friend since they'd dropped him at Montoya's home. They said they'd visit in a month or two, and it had been two and a half months. Jimmy knew something was up, and was eager to find out what.

"If I'd heard from them, you'd of heard from them." Montoya sighed, as usual. Jimmy had made a habit of asking.

"Alright, goodnight." Jimmy continued up the staircase and up into the hallway on the top floor. He continued straight ahead on the marble flooring and turned at the last door on his left. He turned the silver knob and stepped into the guest bedroom he'd been sleeping in for the whole time. He never bothered changing clothes, as he always woke up two hours later to eat a two-minute meal and then train for five more hours.

Jimmy settled into the fresh, clean mattress and pulled up the silk blanket to his neck. He needed whatever sleep he could manage to get.

"I was called here to see somebody, who am I supposed to see!" Detective West burst through the doors of the Retroville Police Headquarters. He was angry that he'd been called to come back from Mexico to meet with his supervisors.

"Over here, Troy!" A man with a deep, raspy voice called out from across the room. He was waving a hairy, large and wide arm in the air. He had a nice watch, probably a Rolex, on his wrist separating his arm from his equally oversized had with calcium deposited on the joints. He was balder than the monopoly man, and had a scruffy, black and white beard covering his face. He was a big man, at 6 feet 6 inches, and was dressed like a stressed detective, which he was. His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, he was sweating, and was visually distressed.

"Oh, can't wait to see what you got for me, Jack!" Troy West angrily walked a power walk to the man. The very man he'd been talking to on the phone for months. It was his boss, Jack Wells, chief of the Retroville detective unit.

"Sit down, Troy. We need to chat." Jack signaled towards a steel folding chair in front of a big, wooden desk with a nice, leather chair behind it.

"What, I get the damn steel chair? I'm doing all the work clearing the city of criminals and you're sitting in a comfy leather chair doing nothing. I'm sitting in the leather, deal with it." West arrogantly told his boss, seemingly insulted.

"You're just lucky I handle you like my number one guy, because you are my number one guy. You can sit in my chair, whatever, but we need to talk." Jack explained.

"I really hope you didn't make me drive hundreds of miles from Mexico to talk. What do you have for me, big man?" West sat in the leather chair and put his feet up on the desk, twiddling his thumbs.

"Some people in the department are looking at the massive pile of bodies you're leaving behind on your trail and are doubting that it was Jimmy. I mean, looking at you and your history, it wouldn't be surprising if they were right, Troy. And the other guys, especially the chief, are insisting that I put another guy on this." Jack sat in the steel chair as he spoke. West's smile melted away from his face.

"Another guy? ANOTHER GUY?!! Do you know what I've been through to get to Jimmy? I've been shot, Jack, shot! And guess what? I worked through it! And all of those bodies? I only did what was necessary! You said it yourself, 'do whatever is necessary'! I followed this guy to Mexico for you, for Retroville, hell I did America a favor! You can't just take me off this. I was so close to getting him!" West argued. He pulled his feet off of the desk and screamed at his boss. I mean, West was an angry guy, but never that angry. Not ever.

"I'm sorry, Troy. I have to do it. I'm giving it to Detective Paul Kennedy, the new guy. Maybe he'll do it without killing everybody he lays his eyes on." Jack sat up and walked to the door.

"You can't do this to me! What am I supposed to do? Sit on my ass and wait for a better job?" Troy was still angry.

"I suppose so. Take a vacation. Get some sleep. You need it."

Detective Troy West was speechless for a change. He sat in the leather chair, mouth wide, and speechless. He finally sat up and walked out the door, stopping by Jack.

"You are NOT going to get away with this, Jack!" West yelled, and continued on his way. He stepped into his car and sat there for a while, thinking.

"He can't stop me! This is MY job! No rookie detective is taking it from me!" West hopped out of the car and ran back into the building. He ran up to the front desk.

"Do you know where I could find Detective Paul Kennedy?" West asked the lady at the desk.

"He has the day off, today. He's at home." The lady said, engulfed in her Glamour magazine.

"May I have his address?" West asked. The lady looked up from her magazine.

"May I ask who you are? We can't just give away officers' addresses to anybody, you know."

"I'm Detective Troy West." Troy held out his badge.

"Alright, let me see, Detective Troy West. Umm… he lives at 3888 Pinewood Avenue." She replied, looking on her computer for the information.

"Okay then." West said and ran out.

"No thank you?!" The lady yelled out with no reply.

West jumped in the car and drove off to the address. If he couldn't have the job, then nobody could. At least nobody alive.

"Oh, Sheen?!" Cindy called out in their house, or at least the house she'd been living in for the past three months.

"Yeah?" Sheen rushed out of the bathroom after flushing.

"When are we going to see Jimmy. You said we'd visit a while ago!" Cindy explained.

"We will, but I've been going through the gang records. I can't find anybody who could've sold us out! Whoever did it must've known about the robbery and Jimmy's involvement, had reason to sell us out, and must not have afraid to call the cops about the robbery. I couldn't have been somebody in my unit because West probably would've spared him, but all my guys are dead. I've gotta go higher. I'm going to see Castillo. We can go when I'm done." Sheen explained.

"Okay, but don't take long. I really want to see him." Cindy said, and went to her room.

"I won't." Sheen said through the door, and went to his car. He really didn't want to see that snake of a man named Salvador Castillo III, but he had to find that snitch. He owed it to Jimmy, to Cindy, and to himself to find him. Salvador was the only man who held records on every big name in the gang. Hell, maybe Castillo would help find the snitch. Having a snitch in the gang wouldn't really help business much.

He got in the car and drove off.

"Ding-dong!" the doorbell rang loudly in the home of Detective Kennedy. The young man quickly got to the door.

"Hello?" Kennedy answered the door. He was a tall, muscular, blond headed man and had a slight resemblance to Matt Damon.

"We gotta talk!" West stepped in and quickly closed the door behind him.

"Talk? Okay, let me make some coffee." Kennedy said, seeing West's badge tucked in his coat pocket.

Just when Kennedy turned towards the kitchen, West pulled a silenced pistol from his other pocket and shot his fellow detective in the back of the head. He gently set Paul's lifeless corpse on the ground and looked throughout the house for a bathroom with a towel in it. He found one, wet a towel, and returned to the body. He gently wiped the fingerprints off of his gun and put it in Kennedy's had using the towel.

"Too much pressure, ay Paul. Shoulda known that suicide ain't the answer." West laughed at his work and left the house. He stopped at a gas station and filled up his car's tank.

He was gonna need it to get back to Mexico.

**How was it? Anyways, next chapter (Chapter 10) will be the final chapter of part three, so be patient. In the meantime, REVIEW!!!!! Goodbye!! **


	10. Chapter 10

**An American Crime Saga: Part Three**

**Welcome back, here is the final chapter of part three! I will be moving to part four soon so for now, read, enjoy, and review!**

**Chapter Ten:**

"Hello?!" Sheen yelled into the speaker when he arrived at the fancy gate in front of the fancy house of Salvador Castillo III.

"Name please." the female voice on the other end told him.

"Sheen Estevez. I'm here to speak with Salvador." Sheen said.

"Okay, go on through. I'll tell him you're here. Just go on through the front door."

"Thank you." Sheen replied as he pulled into the opening gate. He drove up to the front of the house and parked. Looking up at the large, gold encrusted door, Sheen thought of what to say.

Sheen finally stepped out of the car and opened the unlocked front door. He stepped inside and took no time to look at all of the beautiful and expensive objects and decorations that surrounded him. He rushed around the house in search of his unlikable boss.

"Yo, Salvador! It's Sheen! We gotta talk, Sal! Where are you?!" Sheen called out the throughout the house in search of a reply. One came just a few seconds later.

"Hey, amigo! What you doing here, man?!" Castillo walked down a flight of stairs in a golden bathrobe. His well cut hair and fancy mustache hung down his head, all dripping water. He was obviously in the shower.

"I got news, Sal. Bad news." Sheen answered.

"News? Couldn't be as bad as me getting robbed by that asshole Jimmy! He took the god damn money, Sheen! All of it!" Castillo's usual smile was quickly an angry frown.

"All of the guys in my division are dead. The mafia and the police came by looking for Jimmy. It was a massacre! Only like three cops survived. And the only way the cops could know about Jimmy is if we had a snitch high up in the gang!" Sheen explained.

"A snitch, ay? Good! Jimmy deserves to be put on the electric chair! And if your guys help him, they deserved to be killed, too! Whoever this snitch is deserves a medal! If Jimmy gets killed, that means my revenge! Nobody steals from Salvador Castillo III!" Sal yelled in anger.

"You want Jimmy dead?! Why, cause he stole a bit of money that could save his and the gang's life by getting the mafia off our backs?! You'd rather see the gang crippled by the Italian's than see your money be taken away from you?!" Sheen was outraged.

"Look, that was my rightfully stolen money! Nobody steals what I already stole! You got that!?"

"YOU stole!? Last I checked, it was Jimmy and MY part of the gang that did all the work! All you did was give us the go ahead with the robbery! That's it! Now, thanks to this snitch who you so happily thank, got the cops on Jimmy's trail and now the money is in their hands!" Sheen screamed in anger.

"What?! I told them not to take the mone…" Castillo stopped himself, but not in time. That just threw a big puzzle peace Sheen's way.

"You! You ratted Jimmy out! You told the damn police! Hell, you must've told the mafia too you son of a bitch! But why?! You must've ratted him out even before he stole from you!" Sheen stepped back in awe. He always knew that Castillo couldn't be trusted, but never doubted his loyalty to the gang.

"I'll tell you why, Sheen! Jimmy's a smart hombre, but I can't just give a non-member a chunk of the cash I needed to use to expand our gang! Hell, I couldn't give it to anyone! So when I heard that you were taking some cash to Jimmy in Madagascar, I called the man I knew could take anyone out, Maxx Lazanno. Now it just so happened that Jimmy screwed up and stole from Maxx as well, so I simply informed Maxx of the robbery and who performed it."

"But, the police! The mafia was enough, so why the police?!"

"When I heard that Maxx was giving Jimmy another chance, a chance to get the cash back, I knew I couldn't use him anymore. I had to delay Jimmy for a week so Lazanno would come to get him again, so I called the biggest pain in the ass in the world, the Retroville P.D and gave them Jimmy's name. They sent their best guy to take care of Jimmy and retrieve my money. I added that last part to his mission once he stole that money. So far, he's doing a damn good job! Only setback is he took my money!" Castillo let the whole story fly into Sheen's hands.

"You son of a bitch! Man, I trusted your loyalty. I never trusted you, but I trusted your loyalty to the cats! Man, I'm done with all this! I quit! And your ass is gonna be in some trouble when I tell all the others!" Sheen started running towards the door, but ran into Castillo's security.

"You know too much now, Sheen. And you know I don't give a third chance." Castillo said menacingly as the security man held Sheen in place.

"Sorry Sheen, but if you're done with the gang, I got no reason to keep you alive." Castillo reached into the pocket of his bathrobe and removed a large pistol like you'd see in a cowboy movie. Sheen tried escaping, but to no use. He should have brought his gun.

BANG.

"Ring! Ring!" The phone in Detective West's pocket rang. He reached in and answered.

"West." He answered.

"It's Jack. Mind telling me just what the HELL you were thinking when you did what I know you did!" Jack angrily yelled.

"You got no proof I did anything. I stopped by his house to give him the information he needed to get Jimmy, and he must've felt it was too much pressure. You know, officer suicides are pretty common." West explained, laughing.

"We'll find proof, Troy. A lot of guys, the chief included, want to report you to Internal Affairs and start a case. But for now I guess I can't stop you, so I'll make a deal with you. If you bring Jimmy back here and put him in jail, not kill him, I'll have the case dropped and you can keep your job. Sound fair?" Jack said, calming down.

"Yeah, whatever. I can't talk now. I'm crossing the border again. Here, I'll call you soon. I'm gonna need directions to an Armando Montoya's house." West told his boss.

"Okay, talk to you later." Jack hung up, and West did the same.

"Wake up! You've got to defuse a bomb! Wake up!" Montoya shook Jimmy over and over until Jimmy awoke.

"Huh? What?" Jimmy was dazed and confused.

"You must defuse a bomb! It's in the kitchen! You have three minutes! Go! Go! Go!"

"A BOMB?!" Jimmy hopped out of bed, suddenly awakened. What did he mean 'bomb in the kitchen?'.

Jimmy ran down to the kitchen in a panic, not knowing what to expect when he stepped through the door. He stepped into the kitchen and, sure enough, there was a time bomb on the kitchen table with two-minutes and thirty-seven seconds left on it.

"You remember how to defuse a bomb, don't you?" Montoya followed Jimmy down the stairs and to the kitchen calmly, as if he'd done this before. He was so calm, not what you'd expect from a man with a bomb in his kitchen.

"Uh.. Uh.. I think so.. uh.." Jimmy was looking in all different directions in mass panic, "Uh.. I've got to find the wires.."

Jimmy turned the bomb around and found the back of it. There was a removable part of the bomb that probably had the wires under it.

"I need a screwdriver and some wire cutters!" Jimmy looked up at his trainer.

"You'll have to go and get them, I suppose." Montoya kicked back on a nearby chair. Jimmy knew that Montoya wasn't going to help. He quickly ran to the garage and found a red toolbox on a shelf. He ran it back to the bomb. Time was ticking away.

"Ok.. umm…" Jimmy took out the screwdriver and wiped sweat off of his forehead. He cautiously screwed the screw out of the hatch and removed the covering, finding three wires: Red, Blue, and Green.

"Which one is it, Jimmy?" Montoya laughed in the background.

"Okay, okay, umm.." Jimmy tried to calm himself down. He turned to the red wire and got some wire cutters from the toolbox.

"Oh my, no! Not the red one!" Montoya laughed.

Jimmy turned to the blue wire.

"Oh no! Not the blue wire!"

Jimmy turned to the green wire.

"Please, no! You'll get us both killed!" Montoya seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Would you please shut up! You aren't helping!" Jimmy cried. He finally settled on the blue wire and looked at it, wondering weather or not to cut it.

"Thirty seconds, Jimmy!"

"Okay!"

Jimmy continued staring. What had he learned?

"Twenty seconds!"

Jimmy wiped the waterfall of sweat from his face with his sleeve.

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!"

Jimmy finally cut the blue wire. He held his eyes closed and ducked down.

"Beep! Beep! Beep!" A loud alarm went off from the bomb. It began flashing red and blue lights and, after about ten seconds, turned off.

"Sorry Jimmy, but you killed us. Thanks a bunch! But in reality, the bomb ain't gonna flash and beep, it's gonna kill people. We still got some work ahead of us." Montoya sat up and walked over to Jimmy, who was shocked.

"That was not funny, Armando! Not funny!!" Jimmy yelled in a mixture of anger and relief.

"Who said I was trying to be funny, Jimmy? Go eat some food. I'll give ya ten extra minutes since I woke you up early to do all this. Now go ahead, eat." Montoya walked over to a couch in the living room and laid down.

"Fine, just try not to wake me up with a bomb threat again, please. I have feelings." Jimmy said, now seeing the humor in the task.

"Hey, you wanted training. I'm training you!" Montoya put his hands behind his head and relaxed.

Jimmy walked back into the kitchen and reached into the refrigerator, pulling out a package of smoked ham or something like that. He walked to the pantry and took out few pieces of white bread and popped them in the toaster and waited for them to pop up.

3.. 2.. 1.. BOOM!

The front door burst down in a load burst and a man ran in waving a gun and yelling.

"Nobody move! Retroville P.D! Nobody move!" the man yelled out. Jimmy knew that voice. Detective Troy West.

"What is this all about, officer?" Montoya got up from the couch and rushed to the door.

"That's detective, not officer! I'm better than an officer, and I'm here looking for a James Isaac Neutron!" West yelled, pointing his gun in Montoya's face.

"May I see your warrant, detective?" Montoya asked.

"My warrant? Do I need one of those in this crap country? Well I hate to tell you, buddy, but I don't got no warrant. You'll just have to deal with it." West laughed.

"You can't come in here without a warrant, detective. I know that. And you don't even have the authority. You aren't in the states anymore!" Montoya was calm. He knew how to handle it.

"You're right, I ain't in the states no more, and I don't like leaving the states for any matter unless it's on vacation or I'm chasing a criminal, and do I look like I'm on vacation? Now move, or I'll have you charged with assisting a criminal." West said.

"I am not moving anywhere, amigo." Montoya said calmly.

"You must be that Armando Montoya asshole, am I right?" West changed the subject.

"Yes, I'm Armando Montoya. What is it to you?"

"You got some reputation. I bet I could get a load of cash by taking you outta the picture. And, as you can see, I'd have no problem doing just that unless you step aside and tell me where Jimmy is." West loaded the gun.

Jimmy listened to his trainer and friend confront his enemy from the kitchen as he hid in a corner. What was he doing? Montoya didn't know West well enough to know not to test him. West would do anything to get to him, and that includes killing Montoya.

"No." Montoya said sternly.

"I'll count to three. If you don't move and tell me where the hell he is, I'll blow you straight to hell. 1... 2..."

What was he doing! Jimmy had to choose between saving his friend and trainer who'd spent the time to teach him and help him, and staying hidden and not getting caught. By the time he made up his mind it was too late.

"3!" West pulled the trigger and shot Montoya in the face. Blood splattered on the walls, in plain sight of Jimmy. Montoya's lifeless body fell to the ground with a thump.

Jimmy stared at the body in disbelief. Just like that, Montoya was dead. Jimmy hadn't finished his training. He had to escape. Jimmy looked around the room in panic. He noticed a window. It would barely fit him, but it was his only hope.

"I did you a favor. Hell must be a lot better than this country." West laughed. Evil radiated off this man, and Jimmy could feel it. Half of Jimmy told him to escape, and the other told him to avenge Libby, Carl, and Montoya right then and there.

Jimmy took action and cautiously opened the window. West was still inspecting the body. He had to do this fast.

Jimmy jumped up from his hidden position and risked everything. He hopped onto the countertop and kicked in the window. The glass shattered, and a piece stabbed Jimmy's foot. He couldn't stop to worry about it. He had to get to a car.

"Whoa!" West jumped at the sound of a nearby window shattering. He quickly remembered why he was there and realized Jimmy must've jumped out the window. He quickly ran to the shattered window and looked out. He saw Jimmy, limply running across a field to a nearby street, leaving a trail of blood from his wound.

"Freeze!" West called out. He remembered that he had to arrest Jimmy, not kill him, in order to keep his job. Yelling freeze wasn't gonna help. He kicked some loose glass off the frame and jumped out after him.

Jimmy looked back, seeing Detective West gaining on him. With his injury, there was no way he could stay ahead of West. Jimmy quickly mad a sharp turn towards a fence. He jumped over it, although it hurt his foot to do so. He continued on, hoping to find more obstacles to hold West back.

West hopped the fence with ease and sped up. Jimmy wasn't getting away. Not this time.

Jimmy was running out of ideas. He was in another open field with no obstacles in sight. How could he get West off his tail? Just then, a crazy idea popped into his head. He didn't want to go through with it, but what other choice did he have?

"I've got you now you cockroach!" West neared Jimmy and was just a few feet away. He ran up to Jimmy, but simultaneously ran into a charging fist. It knocked him clean off is feet.

Jimmy didn't know what he'd done. He'd just punched a Retroville Detective! He began to worry, but stopped. He was a criminal. Times had changed. Punching a detective was the least of his worries. Hell, he had to do it to escape.

"That felt real good." Jimmy laughed as he looked down at the fallen detective. He looked around to see if anybody was watching and continued towards the road. He needed a ride. He limped a few yards before he was tackled to the ground.

"Nice punch! Unfortunately for you, I'm a trained city detective, and I punch better!" West socked Jimmy square in the jaw. West had a bloody lip, but that was about it. Jimmy had a glass filled foot and maybe a broken jaw.

"Screw you! You killed Libby! You killed Carl! You killed Armando!" Jimmy cried. West laughed and looked at Jimmy with a look of almost pity.

"What, you haven't heard? Your old man is on that list too." West chuckled, taking joy in revealing that sad truth.

"What are you talking about?!" Jimmy cried in disbelief.

"A while ago, I tortured your pop and got information out of him. He told me where you were, and that lead to me wiping out the Retroville division of the red cats. In return, I ended his life mercifully." West smiled, taking no attempts to conceal his happiness.

"You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!" Jimmy popped up and began strangling Detective West with his bare hands. West quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He strapped it on Jimmy's wrists as they strangled him. He then pushed Jimmy to the ground and held a gun to his head.

"I ain't gonna kill you, Jimmy. But you are under arrest for robbery, murder, and assaulting a city detective." West told his man with a grin.

"Murder? I never killed anybody!" Jimmy yelled.

"Well, _I_ did and _I _ain't taking the blame for it. Now if I'm adding right, that's at least ten murders and those, with the robbery and assault charges, put you shit outta luck." West pulled Jimmy up and loaded him into his car.

"You won't get away with this, West. You have no proof I killed those people!" Jimmy screamed as West got into the front seat.

"I don't need proof. All I need is a bias judge, a bias jury, and a good lawyer. I have all three!" West drove off.

It was a long trip back to Retroville, and a longer trip to jail.

**There it is! Part three is complete and Part Four is on it's way! You can find a summary of Part Four soon in my profile page. For now, just kick back, relax, and REVIEW!!!!!!!!! See ya'll soon. Bye.**


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